2025-07-11, 10:18 PM
Oh, how wonderful it was to fly so easily through the air. Fabian could practically feel the warm wind flowing through his toes and his hands, which he held out straight in front of him, calmly and without a trace. His curls blew in the breeze, and it felt as if he could feel that warm wind within himself too—he felt almost as light as a feather as he soared over green hills. Below, some lambs frolicked—from this height, they looked like little cotton balls chasing each other, but if Fabian concentrated hard, he could even hear them bleating. He flew on—over small villages where happy children were playing, over forests as dark green as the eyes of his favorite doll. To his right, a seemingly endless ocean opened up, when suddenly a seagull sought out his companion and looked at him curiously. Fabian never really liked it when people stared at him like that. So, he decided to make a left turn to avoid the cheeky seagull.
"Stay here! You'll like it here with us," he heard her call. "No one will hurt you here!"
"Unfortunately, I can't," Fabian gasped, finding it difficult to speak at such a great height. "As beautiful as it is here, I don't belong here. Maybe another time." He had barely finished the sentence when he was suddenly pulled downward, as if a firm grip had closed around him. He hurtled toward the earth, and the once dark and beautiful forest now seemed sinister and threatening, and it was getting closer and closer.
Slowly, very slowly, Fabian opened his eyes. Why did his dreams always have to end like this? How he would have loved to fly further. He rubbed his eyes and peered tiredly out from under the covers. It wouldn't be long before his mother came to wake him up. Unfortunately, the weekend had passed far too quickly again – how lovely it was to be back with his grandparents in the country. The city, everyday life – and especially school – always seemed so far away on days off. Fabian hated school – not in the way many students like to say, no, he really hated it.
“Good morning, my darling, did you sleep well?” His mother had come into the room unnoticed and, like every morning, gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Good morning, Mom!" Fabian replied, followed by a hearty, exaggerated yawn. It was the same ritual as every day, and every time his mother had to laugh heartily. All he wanted was to make her happy, not cause her grief.
As he slowly padded out of bed, his mother fumbled around in his closet, laying out his clothes. As always, Fabian grumbled about it—after all, he wasn't a little kid anymore. Still, he appreciated the fact that she was taking such good care of him.
After showering, Fabian was always in a hurry. He gulped down his breakfast at record speed, said goodbye to his mother and father—who had also gotten up by then—and walked with his packed school bag toward the bus stop, which wasn't far from his parents' house. Not that he was in a hurry to get to school—as I said, he hated school—but every time he hoped to catch an earlier bus so he wouldn't run into them . Them—the other boys in his class.
Unfortunately, he was unlucky that morning – although he got to the bus stop early enough, one of the buses seemed to have broken down. It seemed like an eternity before the school bus finally arrived. His heart was pounding in his throat – hopefully at least his friend Silvie, who always sits in the front row and can save a seat for him, was on the bus. Then at least he wouldn't have to fight his way all the way to the back, past all the rows where they sat. Silvie wasn't just his only friend, he also sat next to her at school. Was that why the boys called him 'girly boy'? Or was it his blond curls? Fabian didn't know the answer to that question. He liked Silvie very much, but he wasn't in love with her.
Luckily, Silvie was on the bus that morning and, as always, had saved a seat for him. His heart rate returned to normal as he sat down next to her. Alex, Phillip, and Can were sitting further back on the bus and didn't seem to have registered Fabian's arrival at first. They were in the same class and his worst enemies.
"Good morning, Fabian," Silvie smiled at him, similar to his mother. "Oh, if only the day could already be over—it probably won't get any better," Fabian thought, and greeted Silvie warmly as well.
They were soon engrossed in conversation—about how the weekend had been, whether he'd done all his homework, and how he was doing. Silvie glanced back angrily several times—from the moment the first gumballs flew toward Fabian.
"I was with Grandma and Grandpa. It was really great. Imagine how big their new dog is already," Fabian said. The 'old' dog had unfortunately died last year, which Fabian was very sad about. "I would love to..."
Fabian fell silent. A ball of chewing gum had hit him squarely in the head. While Silvie cursed back at him, he tried to ignore the attack. "Where do they always get so much chewing gum?" he thought, barely managing to hold back the tears.
"You faggot!" he heard someone shout loudly from behind. It was definitely Can – he always called him that.
"Cry, you girl! You're not even wearing your skirt today!" That was Alex. How could he possibly know that? Fabian had known Silvie for a long time, and they'd loved playing together in kindergarten. She was also a frequent guest at Fabian's house—and out of curiosity, they'd often swapped clothes. Fabian always found that very pleasant, but also a game. Only, Alex couldn't possibly know anything about it.
Five minutes later, the bus finally arrived at school. "OK. See you in class!" he said to Silvie, before taking to his heels and running towards the school building. During recess and the time before classes started, it was always worst. So he tried to get to school before everyone else – even if he wasn't really there. Directly in front of Fabian's classroom was the school garden, which included an old garden shed. Of course, it was locked, but some time ago he had discovered a loose board that he could easily squeeze through – after all, he was very slightly built. Once inside , he always crouched down behind the large spade and rake and sat completely still. If he was particularly early, he enjoyed the peace and quiet, the smell of the wood, or the chirping of the birds.
However, the noise level in the school building next door grew louder by the minute. He heard the others laughing and shouting. The boys playfully insulting each other. The girls giggling.
He knew he didn't belong. He didn't like fighting with the other boys, and he didn't like playing soccer either. At gymnastics, he preferred to stay with the girls—after all, there were other ball games besides soccer, where he was always chosen last anyway. In general, the girls seemed much gentler to him—he felt comfortable among them.
"Stay here! You'll like it here with us," he heard her call. "No one will hurt you here!"
"Unfortunately, I can't," Fabian gasped, finding it difficult to speak at such a great height. "As beautiful as it is here, I don't belong here. Maybe another time." He had barely finished the sentence when he was suddenly pulled downward, as if a firm grip had closed around him. He hurtled toward the earth, and the once dark and beautiful forest now seemed sinister and threatening, and it was getting closer and closer.
Slowly, very slowly, Fabian opened his eyes. Why did his dreams always have to end like this? How he would have loved to fly further. He rubbed his eyes and peered tiredly out from under the covers. It wouldn't be long before his mother came to wake him up. Unfortunately, the weekend had passed far too quickly again – how lovely it was to be back with his grandparents in the country. The city, everyday life – and especially school – always seemed so far away on days off. Fabian hated school – not in the way many students like to say, no, he really hated it.
“Good morning, my darling, did you sleep well?” His mother had come into the room unnoticed and, like every morning, gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Good morning, Mom!" Fabian replied, followed by a hearty, exaggerated yawn. It was the same ritual as every day, and every time his mother had to laugh heartily. All he wanted was to make her happy, not cause her grief.
As he slowly padded out of bed, his mother fumbled around in his closet, laying out his clothes. As always, Fabian grumbled about it—after all, he wasn't a little kid anymore. Still, he appreciated the fact that she was taking such good care of him.
After showering, Fabian was always in a hurry. He gulped down his breakfast at record speed, said goodbye to his mother and father—who had also gotten up by then—and walked with his packed school bag toward the bus stop, which wasn't far from his parents' house. Not that he was in a hurry to get to school—as I said, he hated school—but every time he hoped to catch an earlier bus so he wouldn't run into them . Them—the other boys in his class.
Unfortunately, he was unlucky that morning – although he got to the bus stop early enough, one of the buses seemed to have broken down. It seemed like an eternity before the school bus finally arrived. His heart was pounding in his throat – hopefully at least his friend Silvie, who always sits in the front row and can save a seat for him, was on the bus. Then at least he wouldn't have to fight his way all the way to the back, past all the rows where they sat. Silvie wasn't just his only friend, he also sat next to her at school. Was that why the boys called him 'girly boy'? Or was it his blond curls? Fabian didn't know the answer to that question. He liked Silvie very much, but he wasn't in love with her.
Luckily, Silvie was on the bus that morning and, as always, had saved a seat for him. His heart rate returned to normal as he sat down next to her. Alex, Phillip, and Can were sitting further back on the bus and didn't seem to have registered Fabian's arrival at first. They were in the same class and his worst enemies.
"Good morning, Fabian," Silvie smiled at him, similar to his mother. "Oh, if only the day could already be over—it probably won't get any better," Fabian thought, and greeted Silvie warmly as well.
They were soon engrossed in conversation—about how the weekend had been, whether he'd done all his homework, and how he was doing. Silvie glanced back angrily several times—from the moment the first gumballs flew toward Fabian.
"I was with Grandma and Grandpa. It was really great. Imagine how big their new dog is already," Fabian said. The 'old' dog had unfortunately died last year, which Fabian was very sad about. "I would love to..."
Fabian fell silent. A ball of chewing gum had hit him squarely in the head. While Silvie cursed back at him, he tried to ignore the attack. "Where do they always get so much chewing gum?" he thought, barely managing to hold back the tears.
"You faggot!" he heard someone shout loudly from behind. It was definitely Can – he always called him that.
"Cry, you girl! You're not even wearing your skirt today!" That was Alex. How could he possibly know that? Fabian had known Silvie for a long time, and they'd loved playing together in kindergarten. She was also a frequent guest at Fabian's house—and out of curiosity, they'd often swapped clothes. Fabian always found that very pleasant, but also a game. Only, Alex couldn't possibly know anything about it.
Five minutes later, the bus finally arrived at school. "OK. See you in class!" he said to Silvie, before taking to his heels and running towards the school building. During recess and the time before classes started, it was always worst. So he tried to get to school before everyone else – even if he wasn't really there. Directly in front of Fabian's classroom was the school garden, which included an old garden shed. Of course, it was locked, but some time ago he had discovered a loose board that he could easily squeeze through – after all, he was very slightly built. Once inside , he always crouched down behind the large spade and rake and sat completely still. If he was particularly early, he enjoyed the peace and quiet, the smell of the wood, or the chirping of the birds.
However, the noise level in the school building next door grew louder by the minute. He heard the others laughing and shouting. The boys playfully insulting each other. The girls giggling.
He knew he didn't belong. He didn't like fighting with the other boys, and he didn't like playing soccer either. At gymnastics, he preferred to stay with the girls—after all, there were other ball games besides soccer, where he was always chosen last anyway. In general, the girls seemed much gentler to him—he felt comfortable among them.